


love not given lightly

by redpaint



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: BDSM, Developing Relationship, Gags, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23269666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redpaint/pseuds/redpaint
Summary: Lewis is all soft, soft skin on luxury Italian leather, limbs ringed in ink and sturdy cuffs. It almost feels criminal to handle him roughly. But Lewis had askedhimspecifically, and well, they were always accusing Daniel of being too nice for his own good.
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton/Daniel Ricciardo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 70





	love not given lightly

**Author's Note:**

> for the tumblr anon that asked for daniel/lewis! i had a ton of fun thinking about their dynamic. thanks for the request and i hope you enjoy it!

Daniel isn’t sure why Lewis picked him, out of everyone. He considers himself a little bit of a wild card, and there’s no way Lewis has trusted anyone since Nico. They don’t exactly make the most natural pairing in the world. But maybe it’s Daniel’s no-bullshit, no-heroes attitude that Lewis is looking for. Someone who will give him the same shit he gives everyone else, not put him on a pedestal.

Daniel looks at Lewis where he’s kneeling, bent over one of the odd pieces of furniture scattered around the room. Naked. Held down by study locks on his wrists and ankles. Okay, so maybe this isn’t really how Daniel treats everyone else.

Lewis is all soft, soft skin on luxury Italian leather, limbs ringed in ink and sturdy cuffs. It almost feels criminal to handle him roughly. But Lewis had asked _him_ specifically, and well, they were always accusing Daniel of being too nice for his own good. He runs a hand down Lewis’s side, laughs under his breath when Lewis shivers. Maybe he can have his own kind of fun with this. He’s never seen the appeal in really hurting someone or making them call him _Sir_ while they lick his sneakers. It seems like a lot of fuss for not even getting your dick out. But Lewis shivers again when Daniel laughs, groans when Daniel taunts him with an “Oh, you like that?”

Talking down to the driver of a generation is a lot easier than he thought it would be.

There had been a full tour and briefing beforehand. Daniel might have described it as businesslike if it hadn’t included a display of diamond-studded collars and odd little toys that look like miniature sculptures from a modern art museum. Lord knows the amount of op-sec that went into purchasing all this stuff; it’s a Daily Mail front page waiting to happen. Still, the sheer scale of it provides him with a lot of options.

He grabs a heavy-looking paddle and a lithe flogger off the wall. He feels a bit silly even holding them, but he walks over to crouch down in front of Lewis. “I’ll let you pick, since you want it so bad.”

All tied down, Lewis can’t gesture, can’t point. He mumbles something under his breath, too soft to hear. This is the first time Daniel’s ever seen him as anything other than clear-eyed and confident. Daniel swallows the surprise and lifts Lewis’s chin with the end of the paddle, so Lewis has to look him in the eyes. “I didn’t hear that. Come again?”

“Want your hands,” Lewis says, a little louder this time. It’s a relief. Daniel drops the paddle and the flogger in front of Lewis’s face and stands up abruptly. Lewis twists his neck to follow him as best he can, but Daniel’s behind him in a flash, running his hands down Lewis’s lower back.

“All this fancy shit and you still want me, huh?” Daniel asks, keeping his tone light. “It’s almost flattering. You’re not trying to flatter me, are ya?”

Lewis is terminally earnest. He chants, “No, no, no,” and twists against the restraints, towards or away from Daniel’s touch, he can’t tell. Daniel smacks him sharply on the high point of his ass, and oh, that’s enough to shut him up quick. Something about the immediacy of it, the reward for a little bit of impulsive cruelty, goes right to his dick. So much for not being into this.

“Okay, I’ll spank you, but I want you to say thank you after. And it’s not for my benefit, we both know this was your idea. I’m just nice enough to let you, since I know you’ll want to.” Daniel kneads Lewis’s ass as he talks, feels the firm muscle lurking under the skin. Lewis would be a good match, if he felt like fighting. But Lewis just keens, nodding as best he can with his face pressed up against the bench. He’s too easy. Daniel can’t believe he was even nervous about what he was going to say; Lewis would eagerly nod along to anything he said.

Daniel steps closer, leans over Lewis so his front lines up against Lewis’s spine. This way he can whisper in Lewis’s ear, so close it makes him involuntarily squirm. “In fact, why don’t you go ahead and thank me now? Say, thank you, Daniel, you’re the best, best fans, amazing crowd.” It’s not even funny but he says it like a joke anyway. He _knows_ it gets under Lewis’s skin, a bit of real discomfort to challenge the control he disguises as submission so well. Daniel grinds his rapidly-hardening cock against Lewis’s ass. “Go on, say it, babe.”

“Thank you,” Lewis says, clipped. Still wedded to a bit of dignity then. Daniel doesn’t push it. This close, they could be fucking, if Daniel wasn’t still fully clothed, if he thought that _that_ was what Lewis really wanted out of this. He can feel Lewis’s body heat through the little artistic rips in his t-shirt, so immediate. He pulls away to stop the thought in its tracks, takes a step back. Lewis can’t see him, can only wait for the sharp crack of skin-on-skin. Waiting should feel like taking the power fully in hand, but he still finds himself wondering how long Lewis wants to wait.

He decides to drag it out a little longer, grabs a gag out of the drawer Lewis had lingered over earlier. The ball is wide but bored through with breathing holes, so he doesn’t have to worry about accidentally killing the competition or anything. He slips it around Lewis’s head from behind, the soft, precise touch needed to avoid catching Lewis’s hair in the buckle in direct opposition to the cruelty Lewis is practically begging him for.

He steps back to admire his handiwork. “I still want to hear you say it,” he says sternly, even though he wants to laugh. “I bet you’ll sound very pretty.” It’s ridiculous, making up these little rules, make them harder just for the fun of it, knowing Lewis will bend over backward to follow them. Maybe this is the kind of power trip he could get working for the FIA. When this is all over he’ll thank Lewis for opening up his eyes to new retirement prospects.

Lewis makes a low, whining sound around the gag. Daniel could tease him for that too, but he won’t, not when Lewis is practically vibrating out of his skin now, posed and prodded onto the edge of desperation. Instead, Daniel runs his hand over Lewis’s ass and picks out the perfect spot. There, the soft curve just before the top of his thigh. Daniel sizes up his target, gets his hand-eye coordination right, watches as Lewis’s muscles coil in anticipation.

The first smack must hurt Daniel at least as much as it hurts Lewis. His palm burns, the loud crack of the impact ringing in his ears. Lewis tenses against the restraints, then lets go, melting a little into the bench. It looks like he knows how to take this far better than Daniel does, though at this distance, who knows, maybe his heart is beating out of his chest the way Daniel’s is right now. All Daniel knows is that Lewis twists his head to the side, makes a smothered sound that’s enunciated enough to be an excusable _Thank you_ , and now Daniel’s itching to do it again.

He glances back down at the abandoned flogger and paddle, almost wishing he had made Lewis choose one. They’re _his_ fancy toys, and they’d save Daniel a bit of pain. But when Daniel gently rubs the hot, smarting spot with his fingertips, and Lewis leans into the touch, as little as he’s able to, the thought of putting any distance between himself and Lewis’s skin feels a bit sacrilegious. He takes the hint and lays down another sharp spank over the first, then only offering the briefest respite before repeating the gesture on the other side.

Lewis is a chorus of drawn-out moans now, only interrupted by harsh gasps or muffled yelps when Daniel hits him again, quicker now, layering the impacts over each other, across his skin, until Daniel is satisfied that there’s not a spot he’s missed. His fingers are burning now, but Lewis is rocking obscenely against the bench, a tiny bit of sweat beaded between his shoulder blades. The sight is a worthy reward for work well done.

Not wanting to lose momentum, Daniel kneels down behind Lewis. This close, he can smell the remains of the expensive-looking soaps and lotions he saw in Lewis’s bathroom. It feels uncomfortably personal, but hey, that’s never stopped him. He’s just about made Lewis cry, he thinks, and now he’s about to have his tongue on Lewis’s asshole.

He kisses over the inside of Lewis’s thighs, across the impossibly soft skin dusted with wiry hair. He keeps one hand on Lewis’s ass, infusing this tenderness with the promise of pain to come. Lewis inhales hard at the first stroke of Daniel’s tongue on his ass, and well, wouldn’t a reaction like that bring a smile to any man’s face? Daniel goes again, a little firmer this time, as Lewis’s moans get higher and higher. He pulls back for just a moment, then brings his palm down again, on the same tender spot above his thigh, and Lewis bucks in response. The reflex means he fucks himself a little on Daniel’s tongue, the painful yelp bleeding into a soft moan.

Daniel leans back on his heels and rubs the pad of his thumb over Lewis’s hole. He slides it in to the first knuckle, not daring to go any further with nothing but spit for lube, but even so, Lewis is so hot and tight around him it makes his dick throb in sympathy.

Lewis makes another sound, this one sounding a bit more like a garbled _please_ than a _thank you_. It had been meant to be a rule for Lewis’s sake, really, but it maybe whites out his thoughts with desire and any notion he had about this being just for Lewis is long abandoned, growing moss somewhere deep in the woods. He adjusts himself in his shorts, his clothes feeling tight and uncomfortable all over.

Looking up close, Daniel can see that there’s precome smeared on the leather. Lewis’s cock is pressed up between his stomach and the bench in a way that looks uncomfortable to say the least. He urges Lewis up as much as possible and gives him a few tentative strokes, whistling low at the feeling of Lewis hot and sticky in his fist. 

“You like this, then?” Daniel asks, even though Lewis can only make incoherent sounds. By way of answering Lewis thrusts into Daniel’s hand, apparently trying to make up for the bad angle with sheer determination. It’s almost admirable. Daniel tightens his grip a little, appreciates how Lewis shudders at that, then withdraws his hand. Lewis leans back to try and follow his touch as best he can, but Daniel sends him forward again with another spank, heavier this time, more solid than stinging. 

Daniel instinctively feels a pang of guilt when he feels the real strength of the impact, but it fades quickly when Lewis rocks back towards him, asking for more without saying anything. The words Lewis used when he’d broached this with Daniel, “I want you to hurt me,” so matter-of-fact, only now are really coming together to crystallize as something more than a fantasy. He smacks Lewis’s other cheek just as hard. He can tell himself he just wants to do it to even out the sensation. 

He leans back in and swirls his tongue over Lewis’s hole. It’s a bit harder to coordinate, but if he concentrates and Lewis holds still the way he’s meant to then Daniel can spank Lewis with both hands while eating him out. It’s overwhelming, the feeling of Lewis under his hands and tongue, trying to lick and breathe and gauge the right angle to get a satisfying crack off Lewis’s skin. It’s like the rare kind of sex that really manages to take his mind away from everything but the next touch, the kind he’s definitely never had with all his clothes still on. 

Daniel lands one particularly nasty spank high on Lewis’s ass, and it seems to break something, Lewis grinding back onto his tongue and forwards onto the bench wildly, shaking all over. When Daniel comes away for a breath, he can see come dripping off of Lewis’s stomach and down the bench. Daniel gives Lewis’s ass one last squeeze, his skin hot from blood brought up to the surface, and stands up. Lewis is even more beautiful from this angle, totally boneless and sprawled in an awkward shape to satisfy the cuffs. Daniel can just see a sliver of Lewis’s face, his eyes closed and mouth still stretched wide around the gag, an angelic picture of satisfaction. 

Daniel makes quick work of the buckle at the nape of Lewis’s neck, and the ball falls lamely against the ground. Lewis groans, working his jaw a little to release the stiffness. He still hasn’t opened his eyes, and for a second Daniel wonders if he should make himself scarce, if Lewis doesn’t want to see him and break some kind of illusion they’ve built here. But Lewis is still very much cuffed to the bench, and Daniel has _some_ sense about him, despite what some people may say, so he sets about undoing those too. His fingers graze the delicate skin of Lewis’s wrists and ankles as he goes, but he ignores the sizzling heat that the contact brings, somehow more focused on Lewis than the insistent, nearly painful pressure of his cock against his zipper. 

It’s eerily quiet now, just both of their breathing, still a bit ragged with adrenaline, the dull whirr of Lewis’s air conditioning, and the clink of the open cuffs as Lewis pushes himself up to sitting. He hisses a bit at the pressure on the sore skin of his ass, but he’s too wobbly still to stand. With the way Lewis is looking up at him through his eyelashes, it’s hard to believe that they haven’t even kissed. _Kissed yet_ Daniel lets himself add, even though he’s still unsure of his status here, an invited guest with what he fears is a rapidly approaching expiration date. Lewis’s shoulders sag a little in a way that’s alien to the triumphant power Daniel always sees in him. Daniel looks towards the door, wondering— 

“You didn’t want to fuck me?” Lewis asks, more curious than anything. 

It’s like he has to do a string of calculations before he knows what to say, even though the answer’s simple. Yeah, of course he wanted to, he’d gotten a taste of how good Lewis felt around his finger. He knew where Lewis kept the lube, and yet. “I didn’t— You never said you wanted me to.” 

Lewis looks a bit shocked at that. “You could have, I mean, I don’t want to make you feel bad for not doing it, that’s not the point, but, yeah. Either way. Thank you. For agreeing to come over. And you know,” he gestures to the filthy bench, the gag on the ground still shiny with spit. 

“Oh, er, you’re welcome. This was,” Daniel pauses as he looks for the right word, “enlightening.” 

Lewis smiles, mischievous in the way Daniel likes to think is special to them. “I hope it was in a good way.” 

“Always is, isn’t it?” 

Lewis hums in agreement, but doesn’t say anything. Daniel thinks that _now_ may finally be his cue to go but then Lewis stands up and looks him in the eyes. “Do you want to stay?” he asks, and god, Daniel loves that he doesn’t play coy. 

Still, he had been imagining all the forms his polite dismissal might take, and so the relief is dizzying. He doesn’t want to seem overeager, but every bit of him is screaming _yes_ so loud he’s amazed Lewis can’t hear it. For all the mindfuck that this experience has been, it’s somehow managed to align his brain, his heart, _and_ his dick, and they all want nothing more than to step into Lewis’s absurdly large shower with the double heads, and then climb into bed with him. Maybe somewhere along the way Lewis will— 

“I can take care of that,” Lewis says, looking with intent at Daniel’s dick where it’s straining against the fabric of his shorts. 

Daniel laughs, deep and genuine now, pure catharsis catalyzed by the absurdity of Lewis thinking he needs to somehow sweeten this deal. Like Daniel isn’t already taken in completely. 

“Christ, yeah, of course I’ll stay.” He looks down at the floor between them, wondering if Lewis can see him blush. He has no right to feel this much like a teenager, like the pretty girl in school picked _him,_ especially considering what they just did. And Lewis doesn’t want to be treated like the pretty girl in school anyway. “You know, usually I wouldn’t, but I also usually don’t put out on the first date so—” He looks back up and cocks an eyebrow. Lewis rolls his eyes, but he’s biting his lip to stop himself smiling wider. His mouth is still a little red from rubbing at the gag. It’s a good look on him. Daniel thinks he could get used to seeing it, if Lewis lets him. 

**Author's Note:**

> title from venus in furs by the velvet underground
> 
> this is a work of fiction/don't send it to anyone involved good god
> 
> also i have it on good information that lewis is the kind of vegan that wears leather okay
> 
> i'm home all the time now, so what better to do than write longwinded porn. i hope you all are doing well, especially if you're in a similar situation!
> 
> comments/kudos are allowed under social distancing rules


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